


Take A Bite Of My Heart

by DesertScribe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Foreplay, Hunting Your Spouse For Sport And Other Perfectly Ordinary Things Married People Do, Predator/Prey, Video Cameras, anthropomorphic animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/pseuds/DesertScribe
Summary: "I was thinking maybe we could narrate this one," Jack said as he hooked his chin over Katt's shoulder to rub his cheek against hers, tickling her whiskers in the process.  "You know, make it a little more like a nature documentary and less like a snuff film."





	Take A Bite Of My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatOneFicYouLikedButToldNobodyAbout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneFicYouLikedButToldNobodyAbout/gifts).



"I was thinking," Jack said quietly, sidling up to Katt and wrapping her in a hug from behind as she zipped up the mottled dark grey hooded sweatshirt she had started thinking of as being part of her 'assassin outfit.' Even through her multiple layers of clothing, his body heat felt wonderful as it radiated into her. It always did. Maybe it was just a feline thing, but Katt had always adored a good source of warmth, especially on cold days like this one when the sun wasn't even up yet.

"Thinking about what?" Kat said, though she knew that Jack required no further prompting on her part to share whatever was on his mind.

"I was thinking maybe we could narrate this one," Jack said as he hooked his chin over Katt's shoulder to rub his cheek against hers, tickling her whiskers in the process. "You know, make it a little more like a nature documentary and less like a snuff film."

"And when you say 'we' you really mean that you want _me_ to be the one to narrate it," Katt grumbled. She flicked the side of his head with her ear, a no-hands-required miniature swat as payback for the whisker tickling.

"Well I can't be the one to do it," Jack insisted. "I'd inevitably fall into doing a Jacques Cousteau impression without even realizing it, and my terrible French accent would make the whole thing weird."

"Yeah," Katt said teasingly, " _that's_ what would make this whole thing weird." She shrugged out of Jack's embrace and went to put her shoes on. She was loath to abandon his warmth, but they had a limited window of opportunity to accomplish their goal today, and they were going to miss it if they both lazed around while she used him as her personal space-heater. "Besides," she added, "I like the snuff film angle."

"Of course you do," Jack said with an obvious hint of lust in his voice, because he never made any attempt to hide the fact that he liked her little 'hunting' excursions as much as she did. "I'm just saying that variety is the spice of life and all that." He silently watched Katt finish tightening and double-knotting her laces, no doubt enjoying the curves of her fit body as she bent over and the smooth arc of her slowly swishing tail. He waited for her to straighten up again and begin doing the final check on her head- and body-mounted cameras, and then he enveloped her in another hug from behind. "I'll make it worth your while," he said. He leaned further in and, this time, instead of tickling their whiskers together again, he opened his mouth as wide as it would go and scrapped his teeth gently against the back of Katt's neck. He didn't do it anywhere near hard enough to trigger the reflex that would have made her involuntarily go limp under his bite, didn't really have the right leverage to get enough bite-force to do that even if he had wanted to, but she melted against him anyway.

"Oh yeah?" Katt asked, purring happily when she paused to inhale. "I already have a husband who keeps me sexually satisfied and a day-job that pays just as well as yours. What else can you offer me?"

"I know you've been salivating over ads for that fancy new quad-copter camera drone with high-end night vision mode, GPS tracking auto-pilot, the secondary infrared cameras for automatic object avoidance, and longest flight time on a single battery charge of anything available on the civilian market," he whispered seductively in her ear, listing each feature exactly the same way that he would have listed all the things he planned to do to her or all the things he hoped that she might do to him. "I wouldn't even make you wait the month and a half to your birthday," he promised.

"Hmmm," Kat said thoughtfully, though they both already knew she had made her decision, "that really is an offer I can't refuse, isn't it?" She turned within the circle of Jack's arms so they were facing each other and gave him a playful nuzzle followed by a kiss on the end of his nose. "I guess you'll just have to start calling me Dame Davida Kattenborough."

"I like the sound of that," Jack said. He released Katt from his embrace and went to open the door for her as she gathered her cameras and other bits of gear. "Happy hunting, Dame Kattenborough," he said with an overly elaborate bow as he gestured toward cold, empty streets beyond the door.

"It always is," Katt said, groping his rear as she sauntered past, and adding, "I'll bring you back the best rabbit ass you've ever seen as proof of my prowess." She kissed him again, on the lips this time, deep and lingering, and then she rasped the barbs of her tongue against his upper teeth as she withdrew. "Catch you when it's over, Jack" she said with a wink. And with that, Katt slipped out the front door and into the darkness before the dawn.

* * *

Running up vertical brick walls was an art, and like any art it required both skill and the proper equipment. Any full-blooded human who wanted to try it with any hope of success would need to get very specialized in their equipment. For Katt Abbot, the only equipment she needed came from the feline part of her DNA, which gave her sharp, retractable claws capable of supporting her whole body weight all on their own. Though, her open-toed running shoes, which left her toe claws free and were designed especially for hybrids like her who liked to switch between digitigrade and plantigrade stance depending on her mood, helped too. The skill came from a lifetime of practicing propelling herself upward along the wall without pushing off backwards from the wall while also not slamming her knees into it.

Not all felines could do it, and most who could didn't bother to keep doing it once they were out of their teens. However, Katt couldn't imagine giving up that kind of freedom until she was so old as to be physically incapable of it, so she kept in practice every opportunity she got. She did a few quick warmup stretches in a shadowed alley and then, with the grace that would have made an expert human parkour runner weep with envy, Katt ran at the wall and then straight up it as smoothly as if she had not made a ninety degree turn against gravity. She barely made a sound beyond the faint rustling of her clothing as she went. Within seconds she was on the roof of the building she liked to lurk on while stalking her prey. Then, there was nothing for her to do but wait until the moment was right...

…oh, yeah, and she needed to narrate too. She couldn't forget that if she wanted Jack to make good on his promise of the drone, which she desperately wanted. Cats did love their toys, and Katt was no exception.

"In these early morning hours, the city streets are mostly deserted," she said, panning one of her cameras across the pavement below, "but even in these crepuscular hours, life is stirring. Unfortunately for some, where there is life, there is also the potential for death." She focused in on the door of the building across from her just as it opened and a figure dressed not too differently from herself stepped out. "Here we have a fine, mature specimen of the common North American bunnyboy," she said as the rabbit hybrid in question turned and locked the door and hung the key on a lanyard around his neck. He took a few jogging steps in place, but his warmup efforts looked halfhearted at best. "Even without the threat of predation, he is beginning to feel the touch of his own mortality, for he is long past the fluffy little juvenile stage and, dare I say it, well on his way to becoming a grey hare. He hopes to keep the Grim Reaper at bay with exercise, but little does he know that he is instead throwing himself right into her claws."

Katt stopped talking as the rabbit froze, cocked one ear and swiveled it around as if he had heard her whispering. After a few moments of not hearing or seeing anything more, he jogged a few more steps in place, a little faster this time. Then he turned and jogged off down the street at a slow lope.

"The bunnyboy has grown complacent in his comfortable urban existence," Katt continued as the rabbit paused at the corner to wait for the crosswalk light even though there were no cars coming in either direction. "Once, the bunnyboy's muscles were firm, his tight body ready and able to bolt from danger with lightning speed at a moment's notice. Some hints of that fine form still remains, but he has allowed himself to go soft." Not that Katt was entirely against softness. After all, a little softness gave her that much more to sink her teeth into, but she liked to have a good amount of meat there too. "He thinks that he is wrapped in the protective shell of civilization and the worst he has to fear this morning might be a mugger who wants his money but not his life," Katt said. "He thinks wrong. Will his meager exercise regimen be enough to put him on even footing with an apex predator? Only time will tell, and unluckily for him, that time is now."

Katt clipped the camera back onto the harness she wore to keep it in place while she was running. Then she looked back over the edge of the roof and contemplated jumping down. It was only three stories. Not too many years ago she had thought nothing of making jumps like that all the time. However, that kind of distance was hard on the knees, even for a feline, and she, like her erstwhile prey, was not quite as young as she used to be.

No, it was probably better to take the fire escape most of the way down and leave the longer free falls for when she really needed them. Katt quickly and quietly climbed down the metal ladder on the far side of the roof and then, foregoing the noise of lowering the retractable bottom section of it, made the much more modest jump of the final ten feet. By that time, her prey had already gotten another block away, but that was fine with her. The longer period of stalking required to close the distance until she was close enough to begin the real chase would only make the experience all the better.

Katt slipped out onto the main sidewalk, fading into the shadows as if she were part of them. Silently, aside from occasionally whispering hungrily to her cameras, she padded after her prey. The hunt was on.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, at least the last twenty minutes of which had been one long, sweaty, and slightly sarcastically narrated chase, Katt finally brought down her rabbit. He had provided a better than expected chase, but there had never been any real question of who would win, not with superior strength and stamina and the promise of a new camera drone on her side. She closed the final few feet between them just as they reached one of the city's larger parks, and she caught him with a flying tackle that startled an involuntary squeal out of him and sent them both to the ground. They tumbled over each other, with Katt ending up on top.

Eyes wide and hyperventilating, the rabbit tried to bring up his feet in the move which might have let a real rabbit disembowel a real cat, but even if the human parts of both of their anatomy hadn't been wrong for it, he was wearing closed-toed shoes that covered his claws and wasn't quite flexible enough to manage it anyway, so all he accomplished was almost kneeing himself in the jaw.

"The bunnyboy ran a good race and even now puts up a mighty struggle," Katt said smugly, both to the cameras and her prey, pinning him down by the shoulders, "but in the end it is all for naught, and he is devoured by the mighty feline huntress." Triumphant, she leaned forward and closed her teeth over his exposed throat.

She didn't break the skin.

He went limp under her teeth anyway. 

Purring, Katt nibbled a trail of kisses up and over the edge of his jaw, up the side of his face, to his ears, which she gave a few grooming licks to before she pulled away enough to sit up a little bit.

"Dead," he laughed. "I'm so damn dead. Just look at how dead I am over here."

"And already going into rigor mortis I places, I see," she said, because her position straddled on top of him made it very obvious just how much stiffer a certain part of him was than it had been when she first landed on him only a few moments ago. Not that she was complaining. Far from it, in fact.

"At least I died with a smile," he said, arching his back and gyrating his hips under her.

"Dead rabbits don't talk ...or try to put the moves on their killer, no matter how beautiful and fierce that killer may be," Katt mock scolded. "Also, none of my friends have to work this hard to get their husbands to exercise, Jack," she complained to her exhausted prey as she finally released him and stood. She checked that neither of her cameras had been knocked loose in the scuffle, turned them both off, and then brushed the dirt and leaves off of her dark grey sweatpants and hoodie with one hand and offered the other to Jack, who had made no move to pick himself up from where he lay sprawled, panting but smiling, on the ground.

"None of your friends have as much fun as we do, either, because gyms are boring," Jack half said and half gasped from his spot in the dirt and scraggly early-spring grass. "I mean," he panted, "why kill your brain cells with endless monotony on a treadmill when you can have this?" He made an expansive gesture which may have been intended to encompass the park they had ended up in, or the whole city, or the outdoors in general, but mostly it looked to Katt like an excuse for him to flop into even more of a spread-eagle position than he already had been. Then, after a few more gasping breaths, he closed his eyes, groaned, and added, "Oh god, I'm not as young as I used to be, and I think my heart's going to explode."

Katt frowned and lifted Jack's writs to check the readout on his fitness tracker. Once she saw the numbers it was displaying, she kept frowning, but now more from minor irritation than concern. She should have known he wasn't in any kind of real trouble since he probably wouldn't have been able to maintain an erection like that if he had really been going into cardiac arrest.

"This," she said, giving his wrist an accusing wiggle, "says that your pulse rate is already dropping back below one twenty and your blood pressure is fine, you big baby."

"If you want to play it that way," Jack said, instantly sounding much less winded than he had only a moment before, "then we'll see how much sympathy I have for _you_ when _you_ hit the big four-oh too not so many weeks from now. Also," he added, "I'll have you know that playing dead is a classic predation avoidance technique of my people, and saying that I can't use it from time to time is like trying to deny me my culture."

"I thought that was opossums," Katt said, trying not to giggle at Jack's mock-hurt pride.

"It's a proud tradition independently arrived at and cherished by many species," Jack insisted, though he wasn't even trying to hide his grin anymore.

"Well whoever's culture it is, you're going to have to stop embracing it quite so much if you ever hope to regain that luscious bunnyboy booty you had back in your college track-and-field days like you said you wanted when you were making New Year's resolutions."

"I don't remember ever phrasing it quite like that," Jack said as finally he accepted the hand Katt offered to help him to his feet.

"Maybe not," Katt said, hauling him up, "but from where I'm standing the end result will be the same." Once Jack was standing, she reached around and gave his rear an exploratory grope under the pretext of helping him brush the dirt off. "Yup, definitely needs more work," she announced, but softened the sting of her words with a playful slap on the ass. Then she tousled the fur on his fluffy little cottontail, because her hands were already down there and it was almost impossible to resist, especially when he wiggled it like that just for her.

"Well, Katt," Jack said, leaning forward and grinding against her, "we still have a few hours before either of us needs to leave for work, and I can think of a few other ways we can both get some more exercise this morning." His stomach interrupted the would-be seductive moment by growling. "Maybe after stopping at McCivet's Bakery for breakfast?" he added hopefully.

"Don't think I was so far behind you at the beginning that I didn't see you already stop in there for a carrot cake muffin."

"But I didn't have time to get a cup of coffee the first time around, and one muffin isn't enough to count as a real breakfast," Jack said. "They have those catnip croissants and salmon omelets you like," he added in a wheedling singsong voice.

"Nope," Katt said, "maybe after we've done this all again tomorrow."

"I married a vicious tyrant," Jack lamented, melodramatically throwing his head back with his arm across his eyes and his ears drooping as low as they could go, but not really sounding like he meant it all.

"And you wouldn't have it any other way," Kat said and gave Jack another slap on the ass for emphasis, which perked him right back up again. "We can start with me chasing you back home so I can properly assess how much more work you'll need to get back into peak form," Katt said, "and then we can go from there."

"Can we film that too?" Jack asked with a grin.

Katt stepped back and made a show of looking him up and down and swishing her tail as she supposedly pondered his question before she closed the distance between them again, gave him an answering grin, and said, "Only if you promise to do something memorable enough to be worth capturing on camera." He already smelled like sweat, and crushed grass, and male musk, and above all else, sex. She couldn't wait to see what kind of a state she could work him into by the time they got home, if she could even wait that long. Jack was still quite a catch, even after so many years together.

"I'm sure I can manage if you can resist tearing me into little pieces like the vicious predator you are before we get to the bedroom," Jack said.

Katt reached up and stroked his long ears with one hand while reaching down and stroking his crotch with the other. "I can only promise you _that_ if you start running right now, little bunny," she purred.

And that's exactly what they did. In the end they were both almost late for work, but it was totally worth it.

**The End**


End file.
